The Collateral Beauty of Christmas

This season of hope, there was a common strand in my life that united the intricacies of my world, with the heavenly realm. 

I was gifted a ticket to hear CapriCCio and The Victoria Brass perform inside Christ Church Cathedral. This incredible photo of light streaming inside was taken by me at night around 8pm.

 I felt loved by many friends and embraced by the gifting hearts of strangers.

I saw the value in the time people used, to send me numerous seasons’ greetings, on Christmas day. All the while, I was surrounded by the reminders of death that touches my gentle soul.

Before Christmas Eve, I found myself swinging in a bucket- 94ft up in the air on the Ferris wheel that is set up yearly, in Centennial Square. Gingerly taking my cell phone out to record a short clip for friends, their responses of surprise made it all worthwhile!

Notice I am with Victoria's skyline of buildings

My view of the city!

 On the night before Christmas, I set out my traditional meal, while adding some new favourites- like a Baconluxious bar, in addition to the fruit jellies from the UK. A small box of Hawaiian chocolate macadamia nuts had a personal connection, while two of my homemade ginger dark shortbread found their way onto the tray.   

I placed on another serving dish I had bought at The Salvation Army, a can of savory delights; including smoked oysters, an array of olives, chicken wings, battered prawns, cheese and crackers. Connected to Christmas`s that have past, what stood out, was all of the food had been bought with grocery cards gifted to me. In essence, this meal was created by the love and care of others, who have touched my heart by their kindness. 

One of my traditions is to watch one or more of the Christmas movies that share in the message of joy. This year was no exception, when I selected “A Dog Named Christmas,” to view.

After watching this film, I believe it chose me, as it had several key factors, which struck a chord. I knew the first indicator that tears would soon follow, was the shining golden trademark logo of Hallmark, upon the screen. My throat felt a lump already in it, even before the film began. The next indicator was the dog being the same kind of breed that my precious golden lab, Boots, had been. My dog was more than a pet; he was a protector of a little girl tarnished by sorrow. I used to grab onto Boot`s neck and sob into his furry coat, asking him to run away with me. To this day, I still have his dog tag with me. Adding to the sap factor, was the movie started with a date of December 12^th, the day my daughter passed away.

By now, most people would have shut off the film and maybe had a nice Christmas drink, but I was determined to see this movie through. I was doing relatively well, when nearing the end, Sara McLaughlin’s song, In the Arms of an Angel, came on. This was one of the songs played at Shayla`s Celebration of Life…cue flowing tears, clusters of Kleenex and muffled sobs.

Thank You very much Hallmark! Another successful display of emotions evoked from your presentations.

In the morning, I unwrapped the fleece blanket present given to me at Anawim House. Inside were toiletries, gloves, hand warmers, and treats. In taking the photo`s for this post, I rearranged the fleece into a heart, to display all of what was kindly packed inside by students. 

Leaving the place I am staying at, I followed the usual road at Royal Oak Cemetery. This year, for my dear friend Judy, I placed angel wings at the grave site of her daughter, Lindsay. 

I had sent a parcel to Judy earlier in the week, filled with four ornaments and a signed copy of the article I wrote for Stigma Magazine. One angel ornament was in memory of Shayla, the tear drop ornament was in remembrance of Lindsay. I had bought it from The Cridge Centre for the Family fundraiser. I included in the package, a heart with flared wings, with a trinket heart that said: Love that was for my friend`s brother Randy, who had passed away years ago. 

I also wanted to include something fun for Judy, who loves the Minions, so I sent her an adorable Stewart ornament. I really missed not seeing her for our usual getting together on the 12^th, so this Christmas Day, I missed her the most.

After leaving the cemetery, I gathered my own gift bag of goodies and went to the streets of Victoria. I have always been greeted with warmth and this year I felt the many hugs, thank-you`s and God bless that were given back in return. I was humbled when all I had left was to give a man a pop and his reaction was resounding joyfulness. He smiled, with broken and missing teeth; extending his arms around me, he was truly grateful for the beverage. When I finished handing things, I drove out to the theatre to see my customary Christmas day movie. I stopped in at a gas station to grab a coffee and when I parked, the palette of sadness enveloped me. In the bushes, where chirping birds hung off naked limbs, was a person stretched underneath. I have witnessed this despairing scene in Hawaii, Florida and other various parts of the USA. Poverty cares less about borders and more about digging into the broken souls, of those afflicted. I stared at the items tied to and strung around a shopping cart, when all of a sudden on my car radio, the lyrics to Do They know It`s Christmas played on. 

The Salvation Army helps all over the world.

 At the movie theatre, I settled into watching a film, most would avoid altogether. My choice was Collateral Beauty. Beforehand, I checked the reviews and was disappointed to see many slamming the portrayal of grief and loss or those perplexed by the actions of someone, whose child had died.

I do not give much acclaim to critics of films; as once I watched the highly raved about: The English Patient. After, I thought to myself… I will never get back the 2 hours and 42 minutes of my life sucked away from me, by this tedious, confusion of a film. This of course, is my own opinion.

With the stellar cast of Collateral Beauty; I began to watch the astral features of death, time and love unfold onto the big screen. I was mesmerized by the layers of profundity that encompassed all of the characters. Will smith`s adaption of a grieving father was zealous and pragmatic. Compounded with the preciousness of life and equivalent to the untimely facet of death; this film had me at good-byes- a main theme played throughout. 

 As a mother whose child has died, I felt Will`s character Howard — pull out of my compartments of grief, a sense of entitlement to the collateral beauty shared in this movie. It has my recommendation to go see it with an open mind and caring heart. 

During the film, I overheard one person whisper, "Oh, a grieving parent would never act like that!" In an instant, I realized they had not experienced the death of a child. 

I myself, have said and done things all related to my daughters death, that I never  would have imagined. 

I commend the director David Frankel and writer Allan Loeb, for taking the main layers of grief and adding continuous lines which are blurred, unless one is paying attention, to the details. 

On my way to the next stop, this motion picture left me with much to contemplate.

I was determined this Christmas to keep some traditions, while imparting new ones, into the spirit of the holiday season. Then, unexpectedly, after five years of not taking part in a Christmas meal, I broke this custom by accepting an invite from a lady from my church, along with her daughter.

Moriah greeted me and gave me a tour of the lovely, Victorian decorated home she shared with her mother, Carrianne. There were five of us gathered with Carrianne and Moriah, in a place that felt as if you had stepped back in time to the early décor of a Victorian period dwelling. From the festive tree of copper wire fairy string lights, tinted with hues of pink feathers and clusters of crimson balls, I appreciated the sign nestled in the branches with the word “Faith.” 

As I walked past the entrance of their home, the nativity scene unfolded on a mantel piece, while the bathroom was something featured in Heirloom Magazine. My eyes were treated to a feast of interior decorations that made one feel the warmth and love, of those who lived there. 

This hospitality carried over to the meal that featured herb garlic potatoes, freshly cooked beets, a ham adorned with zest and much more! 

Soon, Carrianne and Moriah`s home was filled with their laughter, along with Lumena Da Costa, Ramona and myself. There were pieces of love, time and death spoken amongst us in a Ya-Ya Sisterhood kind of way. Our moments shared with one another, interwoven in our lives, reminded us that there is strength and beauty in numbers. 

 Prior to attending this festive Christmas gathering and since the passing of my daughter, I could not fathom sitting down for a traditional meal, without her. I recall the years of playing silly games, drinking eggnog, and looking over to see Shayla, in one of her many festive Christmas hats.

The kindness of others, inviting me into their homes for the holidays would have me politely decline. I thought of how my daughter made Christmas so special and the love we shared made me strive for her to have the happiness she deserved. Unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond my control, this was not always possible. This led me to also dwell on those times when her joy was interrupted by the self-centredness of others. Before, when she was alive, I could hope for next Christmas being without all the drama…then death came to visit and all the while I wished for another year, was ripped away.

While time can be saturated with regrets, it can also be a source of healing.

My Christmas prayers have included someone from a previous lifetime of union. I want them to know, as the Fraser waters flow southwest and drains into the Pacific Ocean, our lives although gone in separate direction shall meet again someday, amongst the pages of my book.

Meanwhile, the passage of time, has mended old wounds.

Their gift of empathy offered to me during the holidays was a true blessing, with forgiveness now attached to our hearts tossed into the sea…many moons ago.

Life is about people. At the end of the day, we're here to connect love, time and death. Now these three things connect every single human being on earth. We long for love. We wish we had more time. And we fear death ~Collateral Beauty 

 Play Song from Collateral Beauty Soundtrack: One Republic- 

"Let's Hurt Tonight" https://youtu.be/8wGN7D03Nho

By TL Alton

Smoke and Mirrors

 "There are those who watch the embers burn...and then there are those who start the  fires" ~ TL Alton 

Walking past a window dressed in glitz and swags of metallic grays, I see the reflection looking back. My dimples are rounded out by a face framed in wisps of obsidian, while flashes of silver peek from under my bohemian hat. My ears hear the ricochet of the past greeting me around every corner. With every pounding of my heart, I am a woman whose grief has been shedding for some time.

Stepping forward, I no longer seek you out in the crowd or allow grief to trick me with smoke and mirrors …you are gone. Instead, I allow my spirit to be bathed in melancholy and inhale the joy…for I am chasing the sun. 

The bottle of wine I chose to mark this year ~ Chaos & Harmony

My colours are returning despite the life I lead; its bitter sweetness has given me a chance to take hold of the Christmas season. Full of blessings, I have been gifted with food and shelter. 

Cards full of Blessings, Love & Compassion

 

Wreath my friend Michelle made in remembrance of Shayla and hangs in her home

Surrounded by the Festival of Trees in Victoria, I look over at a child frozen in fear over the sight of jolly St. Nicolas. A part of me wants to take his place; if only to grab hold of the innocence of childhood, snatched from me long ago.

The swirling thoughts in my active mind have me thinking of the masses of homeless that are being exposed to the freezing weather, which has dipped below zero.

I close my eyes and stop to hear my footsteps miles apart, gather momentum to where I am now. The tears shed from the beginning of this year, have been collected into a Jones soda bottle and kept on the invisible shelf of loss. 

When I was living in my car, I bought a soda and the irony of the message was profound!

If earth and the heavens separate me from my beloved daughter; then there is an ocean apart whose surf has not erased the memories… intertwined within my gypsy soul. 

Over time, I have come to understand that it does not matter where my fatigued body settles in for rest, what is important is the one thing eluding me…refuge of the heart.

I am humbled at how I can create the ‘ideal character’ in my book; mold the attributes into his soul and breathe love into his lungs; only to lead a life of solitude.

After many worn journal pages, inked in my insecurities, I understand the space between where I was and how far I've come ­­­­­­~ have been stitched with God’s healing hands. 

It brought me to contemplate how long after my ashes are cast upon this world, my legacy of stringing words will remain suspended; like a cellist playing their four-string musical instrument, my notes will be a footprint in time.

Every blog entry I compose is to an unknown audience… most of who I will never meet or know the impact. This is where the fervour of what I do is poured onto the pages of those receiving the meaning of what I write. 

Recently, I was able to see Chantal Kreviazuk perform with The Victoria Symphony. There was an element of intrigue to Chantal that mesmerizes her audience. While a talented songwriter, she is also a compelling storyteller, who brings those in attendance into her bubble. As she lulled us with her ballads, every word flowed in harmony with the orchestra. I found my centre of attention drift over everyone who was performing and it felt as if my inner core was in some way connected to each person. When Chantal ended the night with an evocative rendition of "Hallelujah”; paying tribute to the song written by the late Canadian singer Leonard Cohen, it was as if all the air had been ingested into her and expelled out, was the exalting sounds of an angel.

Reflecting on 2016, I conquered many fierce battles and out of every storm, when everything settled…there was always something good that was brought forth. I became lighter throughout the months as I found acceptance with those who I grieved for; instead of deleting images, I took delight in remembrance.

One August night, my upward gaze to the heavens had me pick out the brightest star against the scenery of the colossal moon…allowing the memories to saturate the galaxy with my love. 

As I marched on, I let go of the broken ones who required patching up

understanding that in me ~ is not a quest to fix, rather to lead.

Throughout the year, the bandage was ripped off my scars, by those I trusted. Now, at the end… I discovered that although I had been hurt many times; I would certainly heal and Survive.

One storm has come and gone...here comes another one ~ Chantal Kreviazuk

 This Christmas will be different, as all the others have, since my daughter’s passing. However, as I let go of the missing pieces of my life and allow myself to be rebuilt, one thing remains unwavering… 

The Belt of Truth is my Salvation that no one can take away from me.  

By TL Alton

Gifting of Hope

Now you must sit

No one's judging you

You get a pass on this

Now look ahead

Into the future

And see you

Smile

See you shine

You're safe

Yes, you're safe again…

Lyrics to Lost~ Chantal Kreviazuk

Standing at a streetlight, there are two women. One is a professional, career driven, lady— rushed for her morning conference — her biggest concern is finding the time to purchase her soya latte.

The other woman is a modern day slave, bound in invisible shackles; she has already taken care of business with several men. Her concerns are the diseases she may be afflicted with and how she can survive another brutal 24 hours in the world of human trafficking.

This setting is not in some distant country, this appalling scene is unfolding right here within Victoria, on an average day. 

After being immersed in a two day workshop to stop human and labour trafficking, hosted by the Inter-Cultural Association of Greater Victoria, I discovered our country is being impacted in ways that are inexcusable!

Here is the ICA link: http://www.icavictoria.org/

As I type this, the shocking data on the exploitation of people, has been stamped upon me. I was stunned to read 93% of Canadian trafficking victims are from our own nation and not other countries. Furthermore, not until 2005 was human trafficking considered a criminal offense.

When I attended the Stop Human Trafficking workshop, I was introduced to a series of presenters. Over the course of two days, each one peeled back the layers of atrocities, all unfolding under our Canadian flag.

Through Saanich Baptist Church and prior to attending the workshop, I had received knowledgeable information on human trafficking, by means of International Justice Mission. IJM is an international, non-governmental, non-profit association that is currently the world’s largest anti-slavery organization. IJM’s fight is against violence of many kinds, including child sexual assault, forced labour slavery and police abuse of power. I listened attentively, when Philip A. Reilly, IJM Director of Development and Mobilization, spoke candidly over the deluge of human trafficking carrying on within our own province. https://www.ijm.org/

This Christmas Eve, Saanich Baptist Church, will have Missions Ministry Director Rick Boomer, share about his recent trip to Bolivia. The Story of Maria will be shared. While writing this post, I had the wonderful opportunity to speak with Jeremy Vargas, whose family originates from Bolivia. The support of both of these individuals means a great deal to me, as they have insight and understanding to the countries exploitation.

Selling people for profit has seen the cause and effect of those who commit these crimes and the victims who are forced to carry out vile acts. Through evidence and research, those who groom others for sexual trafficking have been abused themselves in some form; adding to the cycle of people who were hurt… are now hurting others. 

In the advance of technology, cell phones have become weapons of destruction in many forms. A young man gains the trust of a girl, then over time through grooming techniques, he persuades her to take nude pictures to send to his phone. Shortly after, he convinces the young girl to allow him to film them engaged in sexual activity. Now a sex video tape exists. Once ensnared, the images are used to blackmail her, as threats are made to expose the tape to her family and friends, unless she does what he says. 

What started out as true love to the victim, becomes a descent into the world of human trafficking.

The public scrutiny of those who are victims of exploitation, makes it difficult for those to come forward to speak of the hell, they have suffered. With the promise of not disclosing the identity of those trafficked, it is a key factor in shielding those, from further harm. 

The U.N. Protocol, whose framework is based on prevention, protection, partnership and prosecution, has been signed by 117 countries.

http://www.ohchr.org/EN/ProfessionalInterest/Pages/ProtocolTraffickingInPersons.aspx

The lures of human trafficking offers promises of jobs, presents and a sense of belonging to entice a person, who is then exploited.

Those being trafficked like cattle are also branded with specific gang related tattoos; they bear injuries indicative of torture and scars inflicted from the bondage imposed upon them.

Other factors are not as obvious, such as woman or children who have been sexually abused or those who have an underlying sexual addiction. Mental health illnesses such as Bipolar, Schizophrenia, and other related diseases —can result in an already vulnerable person— being demoralized further. Young girls and boys who self-harm or who have low-self esteem are targeted; for they are easy prey to those who are trained to groom their victims. Being divergent in the sex trade, brings a higher demand and increased money for the traffickers, due to those seeking something considered taboo.  

The correlation between pornography and those who pay to exploit a human being, in exchange for money, is directly linked. Sex traffickers operate a wide ring of private and public businesses such as strip clubs, massage parlours and even spas. The annual, average profit, which is illegally earned by organized crime networks from one trafficked female being sexually exploited, is $280,000. 

Here are two informative Video links: 

#Refusetoclick   https://youtu.be/flh8gnC6J1s

She Has a Name: https://youtu.be/PcBBHGTKkdQ

Those who purchase young girls, boys and women for trafficking purposes are men from all sectors of society. Men can either be rich or middle class, locals or tourists, married, single or have children of their own. In a New York Times article, those men who solicit minors stated they have sex with trafficked children, instead of abusing their own, young children.

The similar side of trafficking is the labour exploitation of individuals, for the sole purpose of free labour. Woman and children are made to work excessive days, low or no salary and in unsafe conditions. Some of the indicators of abuse and control are the person is bonded by debt, with no access to medical care or education and works excessive hours with no days off. Nannies and caregivers are susceptible to becoming trafficked for labour purposes, as they enter Canada through the Temporary Foreign Workers Program, they can be brought to our country to work under false and misleading purposes. 

Human Trafficking cannot be ignored, as the negative impact it is having affects us locally and all across our country! The laws of demand and supply are a constant cesspool— where evil coexists to provide the inventory to sin. 

If men would make a conscious decision to stop soliciting for sexual purposes…it would be the demise of human trafficking. What upsets me is over the course of time; there have been boycotts against beef, literature, clothing and even Starbucks, whereas human beings are being branded, marketed and sold as commodities. 

While there are no easy solutions to this epidemic, measures can be taken to do your part to not add to the expanding problem.

Parents need to stop allowing devices such a cell phones to ‘babysit’ their child(ren). 69% of young teenagers, will go to meet in person, someone they have chatted to on-line. These gadgets are directly connecting them to predators all over the world. Parents need to be responsible about the technology readily given to their children. What could innocently begin as a gift for their kids birthday or Christmas, can have devastating results. Imagine walking to your front door with your child in hand and releasing them to the world of sexual servitude. Technology is the gateway to allowing a predator into your home.

If someone falls prey to traffickers, yet is rescued, within our court system is a myriad of difficulty in obtaining convictions.

The reality of sentences being successfully obtained is dismal. Since 2007, there have only been 71 convictions. Victims are terrified to come forward, having been threatened with the possibility of being deported back to their own countries. 

Additionally, traffickers will terrorize those in their possession with threatening to kill other family members.

One has to ask…where is the Hope?

There are several methods of crime prevention and awareness, including Service programs, Violence against Women, VictimLINK and Crime Victim Assistance Program available to helping those get out of human and labour trafficking.

CRAT (Capital Region Action Team) is an organization which was formed in 1998 in response to the “kiddie stroll” in Victoria, by people who cared about underage youth (under 19), who were trading and selling sex for survival. Its members come from the three levels of government, the health region, school districts, police forces, youth-serving agencies, parents, former sexually exploited youth and individuals with a commitment to helping solve the problem. www.crat.ca

In the lower mainland, The Salvation Army offers A Place of Hope & Restoration, for survivors of exploitation and human trafficking.

Their Mission Statement is: Deborah’s Gate seeks to provide a safe and restorative environment that fosters a holistic approach to healing for survivors of human trafficking.

Learn more by visiting their website at www.deborahsgate.ca

The concept that all human beings are born free should equal the dignity and rights they are entitled too, not something a person should have to fight for. 

By humanizing the work the Inter-Cultural Association of Greater Victoria does, is to improve the lives of those tangled in the web of trafficking.

If some of what I have written and shared is hard to stomach or not the joyful sounds of the season, I do not make apologies for shedding light on dark matters.

I would like all of us to open our eyes to the plight not only of our homeless and those in need, but also those who this Christmas will not be full of glee.

This is not simply a foreign problem or something that our Island is immune from.

Over two years ago, after having surgery to remove my gallbladder, I found myself in a grim place of not having any money, after my Employment Insurance finished.

Out of desperation, I became intertwined in the underbelly of our city. A place where dungeons really do exist and code names thrive. What began as an article on human trafficking quickly escalated into a danger zone of transgressions. I was swept up in a place, where my life was one step away, from what I have exposed in this blog post.

Economic hardship, living with two mental health issues, isolation and my own past history of sexual abuse, built up the perfect breeding ground to human trafficking. Furthermore, being the victim of an unreported sexual assault had me bound to shame and silence. Fortunately, I was never trafficked.

By the saving grace of God, I was able to fight my way back to what is a normalized society. There was an unspoken awareness that if ever I became homeless, I would not subject my life to such exploitation.

Therefore, upon finding myself without shelter or income this November, I chose to sleep in my car… because it was my safe haven.

Attending the Inter-Cultural Association of Greater Victoria workshop, allowed me a platform to be educated and receive information that is critical to better discernment. I listened to exceptional presentations, which has given me a comprehensive understanding to the human trafficking, occurring right here in Victoria.

Therefore, my Christmas wish is to ask others who want to be part of the solution, please click on one or more of the following links:

The concept of the Blue Blindfold is 'Don't Close Your Eyes' to Human Trafficking. The blue blindfold represents the risk of people having their eyes closed and not being aware of the crime that may be going on around them.

http://www.blueblindfold.gov.ie/

Domestic Sex Trafficking of Aboriginal Girls in Canada (article)

https://fncaringsociety.com/sites/default/files/online-journal/vol3num3/Sethi_57.pdf

Silvia Mangue Alene, Member of the Advisory Table for Local Immigrants/Blogger

http://silviamangue.com/about-me/

UNICEF: https://www.unicef.org/protection/

BC Office to Combat Trafficking in Persons:  

http://www.pssg.gov.bc.ca/octiptraining/index.html

My sincerest gratitude to Steven Baileys, Community Development Coordinator at ICA, for inviting me to be a part of something worthy of writing and sharing!

I thank you, for the time you gave me to present my journey to others and the impact the Stop Human Trafficking workshop, had on me.

By TL Alton